


The King's Dragons

by Letterblade



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background Predecessors, Child Abuse, Gen, So Much Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if all of the current generation was raised in the same village? the everything-is-terrible version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> I blame omgitsgreen, who has a super-cute everything-is-wonderful one village AU going with a friend, and then some terrible little voice in my brain was like "but what if…" Worldbuilding and larger context in this is super-handwavy, like I've wondered what the dynamic between the three predecessors and the village as a whole was like, and how the predecessors interacted with each other's kids, but all that's pretty outside the scope of the fic; it's mostly just the kids being fucked up at each other. Jaeha's 10, Kija's 5, Seiryuu's 3.

****The littlest of them never got a name.

His predecessor had simply never bothered to name him. And that was the only way it was happening. To anyone else in the village, Jaeha was _green brat_ or _you little shit_. Kija was _kid_ or _hey you_. But the littlest was nothing at all, because he was a Seiryuu, and _nobody_ dared talk to a Seiryuu. Nobody except Ao. Who never called him anything kind enough to be a name.

Jaeha envied that sometimes. If _he_ was a Seiryuu, maybe he could sneak out in the middle of the night because everyone was too scared to look at him, and turn the guards to stone, and get _away_. That silly little cat mask fascinated him. He’d never gotten a good look at Ao’s eyes. He’d _tried_ , of course. Ao didn’t scare him, not like Garou did—Ao didn’t do anything more than shake the kids around when he was pissed—but he was too tall to reach. The new Seiryuu, on the other hand, was three, and didn’t move very quickly.

But even then, he hadn’t gotten a good look. Garou had broken two of his fingers for trying to grab the mask, and the little one had just shrieked and curled up into a ball.

Kija snuck in with a pot-crust of extra food in the night, and soaked some rags in the cold stream that came down from the mountains to wrap his fingers. Kija crouched beside him with his knobby knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, and refused to leave, and Jaeha grumbled, but really, he was all right.

 _Kija_ was all right. The guilt that gnawed at Jaeha’s stomach when the shirt Kija was outgrowing rode down his back…well, that part sucked. The old, shrunken scar between his shoulder blades wasn’t anything new. If Garou had claws like that, Jaeha’d have one to match. But five new lines scored down Kija’s back, long enough to wrap around to his collarbone, his hip. Still healing, pink seams in his skin. A few months ago, Jaeha’d talked him into breaking his chains with his claws. Jaeha’d gotten caught. Kija’s dad, wheezing and withered and apoplectic, had laid him open. How _dare_ he, he’d coughed. How dare he help a fellow dragon flee from his rightful place where he awaited his king?

Then he’d died, not five days later.

Kija held himself like a broken water jug tied together with spit and twine. Even mostly healed, he moved stiffly, contained, head bowed, like anything could fracture him. Jaeha had apologized more times than he could count, and Kija had just slunk off as silent as the little Seiryuu. Sat there beside him now, just as quiet, after gingerly wrapped Jaeha’s throbbing fingers and passing on what little rice and water he had brought.

Jaeha crunched his dried out rice, lined up all the links in his ankle chains at the same angle, shook them back into chaos, checked the weld spot of every one with his fingertips, picked the day’s dirt out from under his scales, and finally groaned, “ _Say_ something.”

Kija twitched, and fell still, and, after forever, asked, “Why do you keep trying to run?”

Jaeha stared at him in rank confusion. It wasn’t as if there weren’t more sets of chains set deep into the walls of this shithole. One with an extra-heavy wrist manacle, a bar to clamp over the palm, a chain to bite deep into the webs between the fingers if the hand got bigger. Seiryuu was so laughably easy to lock down that Jaeha was almost surprised they didn’t just shackle both their hands behind their backs with those eyeless masks in place and leave it at that. Though then they’d have to get close to feed them, he supposed, and they might pee. “Are you _blind_? Did Seiryuu get all the eyes after I was born?”

“They wouldn’t chain you up if you stayed!” He couldn’t see Kija’s face, it was buried in his knees, but his voice was cracking. “They hurt you the most.”

“Garou wouldn’t stop trying to kill me just because I rolled over and took it,” Jaeha spat. “Never did figure out why yours stopped.”

“I hate it!” Kija blurted, raw. “I hate how much they hurt you. And you make it _worse_ …”

Jaeha hunched into himself. “I’d hate _myself_ if I gave up. Didn’t know you cared.”

“Dummy!” Kija yelped, head whipping up, and—he was crying. Jaeha stuttered into silence, felt his head shaking a little in alarm. _He’d_ learned not to by the time he was Kija’s age. Maybe his dad hadn’t cared as much about him blubbering as Garou did? He was scared enough to hide his face in his hands, at least, even with one of them leaving scale-prints on his cheek. “You’re my brother,” he mumbled eventually, muffled, with a hiccup. And then, even smaller, “Father was sad he’d hurt me.”

“Sure,” Jaeha muttered. “So’s Garou, when he wants me to feel sorry for him.”

“Not like that! He never said. I just knew.”

Jaeha felt his eyes widen, and shuddered. Very slowly and carefully asked, “So it’s not just me?”

“Huh?”

“Feeling. What Garou feels. I was starting to think I was going crazy. Crazier. Baking my head chained up down here.”

Kija was silent for a long while, and scooted a few inches closer, and eventually, in a tone of voice that made it quite clear he was entrusting a secret, whispered, “I knew when he’d die.”

“Oh, hell,” Jaeha mumbled. Kija’d actually sort of gotten _along_ with his predecessor, in their way. Sure, clawing, but only occasional clawing? No fair he’d had to feel that. No fair his had been the first to go. If the heavens had a lick of mercy, old Garou would’ve bitten the bucket years ago but _no_. Even in that, the gods had thoroughly fucked them over, as usual. Jaeha’s heart ached. No matter how hard he tried to pretend. He couldn’t exactly put his arm around Kija, he didn’t know how tender his wounds still were. But he rearranged chains, made room beside him. Kija inched closer.

There was that weight on the back of his neck, Jaeha realized, slow and creeping. The weight of being watched. He squinted into dark corners, and eventually spotted the pale shadow of the little cat-mask, painted eyes like big black pools.

“Jeez,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna do it again, okay.”

Silence.

“I can _see_ you, you can come out already.”

Silence.

“Or you can keep watching me like a creeper, you do you.”

Silence.

Eventually, hesitantly, Seiryuu peeled off the wall and toddled over, mask bobbing a little as he scanned the ground so he didn’t trip. He was already way better at this not-falling-down thing than he was when Kija’s dad died, Jaeha’s noticed. He can’t help but wonder, sometimes, what kind of guy he’ll grow up into. Can’t help but look forward to it, a little.

Seiryuu stopped and looked at Jaeha’s hand for a long while, slowly wilting, and Jaeha wondered what broken bones looked like from the inside out, and shuddered. “Ew. Stop that.”

“Sorry,” Seiryuu croaked, like it was a reflex, like it was the only thing he knew how to say, and turned.

“You don’t have to go.”

Jaeha’d seen grown men fighting dramatic internal battles on a regular basis. He was pretty sure this was the toddler version. Seiryuu swayed, turned back eventually, head bowed so low he could see the unpainted wood around the lip of the mask.

“Sorry…Jaeha…got hurt.”

Jaeha felt his gut clench. “ _No_. Damn it. That’s not your fault. I was a jerk, Garou was a bigger jerk, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He groaned. “Not everything Ao says is true, you know.”

And he had absolutely no idea what was going on under that mask. Oh well. He was probably just confusing the poor runt more.

“You did fine,” he ventured after an awkward silence, and held out his good hand. “C’mere.”

Seiryuu let out a tiny, stunned gasp, like Jaeha had just lit up his entire world, and tottered over to latch onto his hand like a monkey.

“You’re a good brother,” Kija whispered into his knees, and for a moment, with Kija up against his side and Seiryuu wrapped around his arm heedless of the chains, they can pretend things are okay. But Kija had to keep going, damn it. “It’ll be okay. The king will come for us. I’m sure of it. Father…told me that once.”

“The king,” Jaeha echoed, rank disdain in his voice. “Sure. Garou ran off to look for him once, look how _that_ ended. You really think the king will change anything?”

“Of course he will!” Kija blurted, wide-eyed. “We’ll get to go with him, and—”

“And be _his_. More like we’re already supposed to be his, and the village is keeping us until he bothers to show up, and _look how that’s going_.” He rattled his chains angrily, and Seiryuu flinched away from him, bumbling to his feet. “ _This_ is—”

“No!” Kija wailed.

“—just what the king wants. It’ll be the same with him!”

“That’s not _true_!”

“How could you believe that? Garou used to be chained down, and his predecessor before him. _Nobody_ ever talks to a Seiryuu. If the king’s so great, why would he leave us like this?”

“ _No_!” Kija shook, red-faced, leaking, and scrubbed his hands over his face so hard he left redder streaks, and kicked Jaeha once, hard, in the shin, and fled, bawling.

 _Idiot_ , Jaeha thought.

Silence stretched. Seiryuu shakily backed away another few paces, and went still as a houseplant.

Guilt gnawed at Jaeha’s stomach, black and sickening. Worse than guilt. Sheer _dread_. Was he going to grow up like Ao, stomping all over everyone’s happiness every chance he got. Or— _worse_ —

So much time passed that the moon rolled around to shine through one of the cracks in the roof. The little slice of light stretched, found Seiryuu’s mask. He glowed, eerie, as he eventually succumbed to gravity with a little plop and his short legs sticking out, and made tiny, choked noises behind his mask, so tiny that it took Jaeha a while to realize he was crying. Wonderful. Made both his brothers cry in one day, there must be some sort of medal for that. A shit medal.

He wouldn’t be as bad as Garou. Ever. He refused. He’d _die_ first.

Jaeha cradled his broken hand to his chest and very seriously considered throwing up. Strained against his chains with everything he had, and screamed through gritted teeth, and Seiryuu twitched like a startled squirrel, and stopped crying.

Jaeha ground the heel of his good hand into his eyes, and hated every single inch of his existence, and eventually, as carefully as he could, said, “I’m not angry at you.”

Seiryuu was, unsurprisingly, silent.

Jaeha looked down at the rags wrapped around his hand. Heated up from his body now, and half dry, but still, probably better than nothing. He wrapped them a little tighter, carefully, hissing between his teeth at the bone-jarring pain. Dragged one of the less rotted reed mats over himself for some warmth. Made himself small.

“Hey. Seiryuu. I’m sorry. If you get a chance, tell Kija too.”

There was no hint of understanding. Jaeha wasn’t sure what he’d expected, honestly. But it was…all he could do. If he could’ve ripped his chains out of the wall and gone to him, he would have, but his world ended after a foot and a half. Always.

He swallowed the bile of his helplessness, old, endlessly familiar.

They were all the king’s dragons, after all.


End file.
